The Differences In Being Sophie Jenkins
by Unknown Personality
Summary: It was a good thing she was prepared for her marriage to Howl to be hair-rising. She knew that he'd exploit her. And she also knew that she would get her revenge.


**Howl's Moving Castle © Diana Wynne Jones**

* * *

"_The lady of the house is Sophie."  
"Or will be shortly," Mrs Fairfax said, beaming benevolently.  
_**Howl's Moving Castle – Diana Wynne Jones**

* * *

~x~

**The Differences In Being Sophie Jenkins**  
Unknown Personality

~x~

Calcifer seemed to have wanted everyone in Market Chipping (if the kaleidoscope of fireworks shooting out of the turrets was any indication), or perhaps all of Ingary to know that the extraordinary Wizard Howl, eater of the hearts of young girls was getting married – to a young girl.

Tongues wagged and rumours flew about. Some people said that the girl _didn't_ have a heart or soul to eat or suck out and that's why Howl was marrying her. Others said that his bride was none other than the Witch of the Waste and that they better start preparing for Doom's Day. No one even thought of 'useless' Sophie Hatter.

* * *

Elsewhere, the Jenkins/Hatter wedding was in progression. Sophie was the picture of the perfect bride. In fact, she was _such_ a perfect bride, Howl nearly thought he might have been tricked into marrying one of her sisters instead. He sure hoped not. Sophie had told the seashell in her cubbyhole that her sister, Martha he thought the name was, wanted ten children and he had just happened to overhear. Never mind the fact that it was three in the morning.

He shuddered. And they say the _men_ are the ones to look out for. He decided to make sure it was Sophie though. He bent his head inconspicuously and whispered in Sophie's ear,  
"What's wrong with you?" he asked bluntly.  
"What do you mean?" she whispered back.  
"You're acting so perfect," he paused to think of a better word, "So un-Sophie-like."  
"Well," she said offended, "It _is_ my wedding and I want to it to go off without a hitch."  
"You sure you aren't that sister of yours? That one who wants ten kids? If you are, I don't want to get married to you. I can't _stand_ children," he whispered artlessly.  
"What?" Sophie yelled, startling the minister out of his self-induced sleep. She ignored him in favour of knocking some sense into her fiancé. "You wait till our wedding day to tell me you don't like _children_?"  
"Yes?" Howl answered hesitantly. He couldn't see what she was so bothered about.  
She sputtered at him in disbelief, her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. After a few seconds, she appeared to have decided her course of action. She pursed her lips together and glared at him. Then she said,  
"Is there anything else you don't like?" she asked acidly.  
"I don't like many things," he answered innocently.  
"I mean things like children and such, things that are the foundation of a happy marriage," she explained.  
"Oh," he thought a moment, "Does a nosy wife count as a dislike?" he asked with innocuous look on his face.  
She glared at him again.  
"You might as well call off the wedding if you don't want to marry me," she replied acerbically and seemed about to leave when Howl caught her arm and spun her around to land in his arms.  
"You do know that I was just joking, right?" he asked hugging her. He stroked her hair and smirked arrogantly at no one in particular. Then he held her at arm length and smiled dazzlingly down at her. "Now, shall we get on with the wedding?" he asked charmingly.  
"Sure," Sophie answered seemingly entranced.

* * *

The wedding got over without another hitch and it was on to the reception for Howell Jenkins, and his new wife, Sophie Jenkins. None of the gossipmongers of Market Chipping seemed brave enough to go right up to the castle and figure out exactly why the castle was shooting fireworks. And this was just the wedding of the Royal Wizard. The Porthaven gossipmongers were much braver to have braved the fight between Howl and the Witch of the Waste.

* * *

The reception was over and Sophie was dead tired. Her shoes were killing her feet. She knew Fanny had meant well but she really should have keep aside a pair of flats to wear when she wasn't being photographed or doing anything really important. She took a step forward and nearly fell over the threshold in a fit of weakness.  
"Ah," she moaned. She leaned down and pulled out the shoes. Then sneaking a look around to make sure no one was in sight, she tiptoed across the entrance to the bit of open soil nearby. She placed her feet in it and scrunched her toes in, soaking in the coolness of the earth. "Ah," she sighed.

"What are you doing?" she was rudely interrupted by Howl.  
"What do you think I'm doing?" she asked shortly, "I'm scrunching my feet in the ground."  
"Whatever for?" he asked leaning forward curiously, his hands on his hips.  
"To cool down," she answered looking down. She hiked her skirt up, clear of the dirt.  
"Why would you that," he swept his hand up into the air and her feet felt normal again, "when you could get rid of it so easily?" he dropped his hand. She stared dismally at her feet.  
"Some people prefer doing things the normal way," she answered mournfully looking at her grit encrusted feet. She better not tell Howl about them. She really wanted a nice warm bath anyway. That reminded her. Now that she was married to him, was she to use his bathroom? She was allowed to, she supposed. That brought up a new thought. Where had she bathed before this? She sure hoped she did bathe every day although she couldn't really remember…

She was yanked rudely out of her stupor quite literally. When she got her bearings, she realised that she in Howl's arms. She blushed. She hadn't expected him to be such a romantic and carry her over the threshold! Her bath forgotten, she smiled up at him bashfully. Really, he made her feel so idiotically happy all the time.

They walked past her cubbyhole and she bid it a silent farewell. Howl carefully walked up the stairs, making sure he didn't bang her head or some other body part on something. He walked right up to his bedroom door and pushed it open with his back. He swung Sophie down and turned to close the door.

She gazed around, taking in the room. It was actually clean for once and looked inhabited. She glanced at the top of the four-poster and sighed when she noted the spiders. Then she walked over to the window and looked down onto Megan's yard. It was darkened and she could see the splashes of light on the grass from the downstairs windows.  
"If I shouted out to them through this window, would they hear?" Sophie asked curiously.  
"They probably would but it wouldn't be a wise idea to do that," he answered from where he was lounging on the bed.  
"So how do you keep them from seeing your bedroom?" she asked, pressing her hand against the pane as she looked out.  
"I don't," he answered simply and anticipating her next move, explained. "They've never really had the need to check on me through my _window_. Are you done with the questions yet?"  
"No, I'm not," Sophie answered curtly. She wondered around the room, running her hand along the wall. Suddenly she remembered something.  
"So," she began seemingly very interested in a rut in the wall. "I'm allowed in here now."  
"Well, of course you are," Howl said sitting up. "You're my wife now."  
"Does that mean I have to give up my cosy little cubby hole?" she asked innocently.  
"Yes," he answered bluntly before lacing his fingers together behind his bed and falling back onto the pillows.  
"Hm, that is a pity," she answered tracing little designs on the wall. "But I can manage – long as you let me clean up this place."  
"What?" Howl sat up again. "No way are you cleaning my bedroom."  
"But I'm going to have to sleep in here, aren't I? I refuse to sleep in such a dirty, filthy mess. It's unhygienic!" she exclaimed.  
"Well pardon me," he said indignantly, "but this happens to be my room from back in my younger days. It has sentimental value and I won't have you destroying that." he said.  
"Then I'm not sleeping here," Sophie answered primly. "Well, I'll take my leave now. Goodnight Howl," she said and swept out of the room.  
"Wha-? Where do you think you're going?" Howl asked and scrambled off the bed to stop her but before he got to her, she slammed the door in his face. Not that it would do any good but it sure felt good.

* * *

"_Psst!"  
_Sophie sprang awake and nearly hit her head on the bottom of the stairs.  
"What do you want?" she hissed at Howl although there was no one at home besides them.  
"Come on up to sleep," he whispered back.  
"You cleaned your room?" she asked incredulous.  
"No," he whispered and she fell back on the pillows. She pulled up the blankets in a huff and turned to face the wall. "Hey!" he said and shook her.  
"What?" she turned to glare at him.  
"It's our wedding night," he said, "let it go for tonight."  
"No," she said firmly and turned back around.  
"Sophie…" he said coaxingly.  
"No!"  
"Come on! You only have one wedding night in your entire life!" he said in a persuasive voice.  
"Not nowadays you don't." she retorted.  
"Please Sophie?" he pleaded. She hesitated.  
"Alright," she sighed, "But I'm coming back downstairs tomorrow until you clean this place up."  
"Sure, sure. Whatever you say," he answered and hurriedly pushed her up the stairs.

* * *

The next morning, Sophie trod sleepily into the kitchen and fell into the chair by the blue fire.  
"So," Calcifer grinned, "How was your wedding night with Howl?" he asked.  
"It was horrible," she moaned. "I don't know why I let him talk me into sleeping in his room."  
"Aren't you supposed to sleep in your husband's room?" Calcifer asked sardonically.  
"Well yes," Sophie answered and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. "But Howl's room is so untidy and all those spiders!" she dropped her hand. "I couldn't get any sleep. But he? He slept like a baby!"  
"Well Howl's used to it," Calcifer reasoned.  
"Yes, but I'm not. I told him that I was only going to spend one night in his room and that I was going to sleep in my cubbyhole from today onwards until he cleans his room," she stated with her chin in the air.  
"As if that's ever going to happen," Calcifer muttered under his breath.

* * *

He was right. Sophie has slept in Howl's room ever since – spiders and all. But she did take a broom, a mop and a bucket full of soap suds to his room. And although upon his return, he was enraged to find out that she had tidied up his room, she was forgiven. Why? Because she had let his precious spiders live.

* * *

~**The End**~

* * *

_Howl said, "I think we ought to live happily ever after," and she thought he meant it. Sophie knew that living a happily ever after with Howl would be a good deal more eventful than any story made it sound, though she was determined to try. "It should be hair-raising," added Howl.  
"And you'll exploit me," Sophie said.  
"And then you'll cut up all my suits to teach me," said Howl._**  
****Howl's Moving Castle – Diana Wynne Jones**


End file.
